Ruler of the Court
by Lestrange Fate
Summary: Unexpected changes cause Harry to find out a dangerous secret about his parentage. Dangerous magics, betrayal, and family angst stand in Harry's way as he finds out who he really is and the powers his lineage grants. Switched at Birth fic. Rated M to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

I do not own Harry Potter

* * *

Chapter One

Rain pelted the windows of number 4 Privet Drive, echoing throughout the house as Harry put the kettle on the stove turning the heat up as far as possible. His hands were shaking, recent developments had made him go crazy. As he walked to the French doors leading out to the patio he stopped and looked in the mirror, taking in the new changes that had occurred in the last day since he sent the owl to Sirius begging for help. One of his eyes had changed color, gone was the emerald green that he had inherited from his mother, instead there was a bright cold blue. Running his hands through his hair he pulled the ebony strands to one side to look as the lightening brown that some of them had become.

Had it not been for the blue eye, Harry would have thought it was all because of stress. Summer homework, the chance to live with Sirius being taken from him, the nightmares of strange places and people. He had woken up sweating more than a few times, but these changes were starting to frighten him. He needed Sirius' advice.

As if on que a knock from the French doors drew his attention. Running to it he saw the man he had been waiting for standing underneath the roof as far from the rain as he could. Harry hurriedly unlocked the door and let his godfather into the warmth of the house.

"Good to see you, Sirius" Harry said as he hugged his godfather despite the wet overcoat he was wearing.

"You too, pup," Sirius said returning the hug, "now what's so bad that you needed to have me come here?"

"There have been some," Harry hesitated before continuing, "changes."

Sirius looked at him for a moment before bursting to laughter.

"Changes? Harry, we all go through changes at this point in our lives. They may be scary but trust me in a couple of years you'll really enjoy them, especially the ones that girls go through."

"This isn't about puberty, Sirius. This is serious."

"I know you just didn't say something like that."

Harry grabbed Sirius by the arm and looked him in the eye and said "look at me. This isn't puberty this is something else."

Having said that Harry could see all playfulness leave Sirius' eyes as he looked at him. His free hand rose to Harry's face, tracing around the eyes that was now blue.

"Well, shit."

Harry's hand left Sirius' arm as his godfather walked over to the table and sat down. This was not what he had expected when he had asked for help. It was almost as if…

"This has happened before hasn't it" Harry asked as he joined Sirius at the table.

"May 1980. James and I had just gotten back from an Order meeting…"

"Order meeting?"

"The Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore's anti-Death Eater group. We were three dozen of the best and the bravest souls to go up against You-Know-Who and his army. I was a member, as were your parents, Mooney, and…and even Peter. We just got back from the meeting and we decided to head to Godric's Hollow, where your parents were hiding out. We got to the house and found Lily in hysterics, she couldn't say anything except your name. James and I ran up the nursery expecting to find the worst possible scenario, instead we found something else."

"What?"

"You. Except it wasn't you, not at first anyways. You looked different, your hair, your eyes, even your skin was lighter."

"What had happened?"

"Mistaken identity, someone at the hospital where you were born had gotten you mixed up with another baby. But it wasn't just a mix up. Someone had transfigured you to look like James, there was no other way we could have taken the wrong child."

"You're sure it was a mix up? You're sure my mother hadn't…"

"What? Merlin, no we were as sure as possible. A simple heritage spell was all we needed to determine that the child we were looking at, the child we had known for the past eight months was someone else's child."

Harry sat back in his chair as he let this information sink in. His parents weren't his real parents, what else in his life was a lie?

He was jolted from his thoughts by a steaming cup of tea being placed beside him. He couldn't bring himself to look at Sirius, not now.

"Harry, look at me," Sirius said, "you are still Harry Potter. You are still my godson. Lily may not have given birth to you, but she died for you, both her and James died so that you could be sitting here with me."

Harry ran his hand through his changing hair as he took this information in. Looking up at Sirius he received a warming smile which he couldn't help but return.

Sirius looked around the kitchen and the den and asked "speaking of family, where are your relatives? I was hoping to have a talk with them."

"Dinner with family friends" was all Harry could say before a thought crossed his mind. If he wasn't Lily's son, his wasn't Petunia's nephew. The Dursley's weren't his real family. The protecting enchantments Dumbledore said were there for that reason couldn't exist.

"Did Dumbledore know" he asked.

"No, nobody apart from the three of us knew. James was easily able to transfigure you to look like him again, though he kept your mother's eyes for good measure. Lily managed to find a potion to suppress any unwanted…genes, I think she called them, whatever you inherited from your birth parents would stay suppressed forever."

This caught Harry's attention. This potion must have failed causing him to start to look like someone else with all the genes that he should have grown up with.

"Did you ever try and find out what happened to the other me?"

Sirius looked confused for a moment before saying "you mean the Harry Potter that Lily gave birth to? No, we couldn't find him. There were two many variables to take into account. Three days before your parents went into hiding for the foreseeable future they went to France, a place called Rennes. Lily had always wanted to go it was where her parents met and fell in love, she thought it significant that she and James go there. Anyways the second day they were there your mother went into labor and you, the…other Harry Potter was born."

"And nobody noticed anything weird or out of place?"

"There was only one person we were focused on, so no, we noticed nothing wrong or out of sorts. They came home, went into hiding, and eight months later we found out the truth."

Harry sat there taking this information in before Sirius drew him out of his musings.

"Harry, pup, I need you to do something for me" Sirius said holding Harry's hand affectionately.

"Anything" Harry replied.

"Contact Gringotts, send Hedwig with a letter to Blightfang, he's the Potter family estate manager there."

"But I'm not a Potter."

"It was your blood James brought to Gringotts to have you included in the vaults. You may not be a Potter, by blood, but you are by name. Until you concede that fact you have access to the family vaults."

"Vaults? I thought I only had one, my trust vault."

"One? No, no, the Potter's are an ancient family, almost nine hundred years old, there's few families in Britain that can claim that fact, even the Malfoy's aren't that old. You should have been told this when you were eleven and you should have been given the keys to Potter Manor. Honestly, it's outrageous that no one from your allied families has told you about this."

"Allied families? Potter Manor?"

"The Potter's were very well off, even when they were only a generation or two old they made friends with the other magical houses and they eventually became allies through the witch hunts and the various Dark Lords. House Potter came to be one of royal seven families, the seven most influential families in Britain. I think by 1980 there were almost fifty families indebted to the Potter's several of which had children at Hogwarts last year at least."

"What about Potter Manor? If they had a manor, why did my parents go into hiding in a cottage?"

"Two years earlier your grandparents, Fleamont and Euphemia were killed when You-Know-Who imperiused one of the house-elves and made her kill them in their sleep. Since then James never stepped foot in the manor. Couldn't bear to live with the memories. He and I bought a small flat in Hogsmead before he married your mother."

Downing more of his tea Harry's mind raced as his took in this information, if this was true then he was far richer than he thought, but these allied families were of concern, if they knew that their families were indebted to him, why didn't they tell him, why did they keep this a secret from him. What did they have to gain from keeping him in the dark.

The two sat in silence for a moment before Sirius said "so, any girls at Hogwarts catching your eye?"

"I'm not talking about my love life, Sirius" Harry said sternly.

"Sorry, just trying to lighten the tension. I'll take a look and see if I can't find some glamour spell to keep this change from spreading."

"The Weasley's are picking me up on Friday. Ron and Hermione will notice there's something different."

"I'll have something ready before that, don't you worry. Is there anything else you want to talk about before I leave?"

"You're leaving already?"

"Tomorrow's the first full moon, pup. Been dealing with Mooney's furry little problem for the past couple of days now. I need to get back and help him prepare."

Just as they finished with their tea the sound of the garage door opening stopped them, looking at the clock Harry realized the Dursley's were home earlier than expected.

Sirius looked at him and said "Harry, remember what I said, contact Blightfang and have him tell you about the Potter finances, don't mind about the bloodlines it won't matter, you'll be okay. He can tell you everything you need to know about the Potter family. You might even find some magic that can help you beat You-Know-Who."

This immediately grabbed his attention, but it was also the moment the door joining the garage and the kitchen opened letting in his oversized "uncle" and his "aunt" and "cousin".

"Boy, what are you doing just standing there? Get over here and take our coats," Vernon said throwing his coat at Harry. But the coat never made it to him as Sirius' arm reached out from behind one of the pillars and caught it in midair.

"Who to bloody hell are you?"

Sirius tossed the coat to the ground and reached inside his own, pulling out his wand. Petunia gasped at the sight of the wand hugging Dudley close as if it would save him from a wizard.

"I'm Sirius Black," his godfather said, "you know the mass murdered escapee you've been hearing about for the last year. Turns out I'm a wizard. Also turns out I'm Harry's godfather."

At that the Dursley's eyes shifted to Harry who just looked back unable to keep a smirk off his face.

"Now then," Sirius continued, "I've been made aware of the treatment Harry has received over the past thirteen years, and it ends now."

"I don't know what the boy's told you" Vernon began but a simple jab of Sirius' wand shut him up.

"It ends now."

Vernon's head shook so fast and hard Harry thought it would come off.

Sirius put his wand back in his coat pocket before turning to Harry and giving him a hug before exiting through the French doors.

* * *

Three days later he was sitting in an enormous room in Gringotts across from who he guessed was an elderly goblin, the name Blightfang elegantly etched in gold into the silver nameplate on his desk.

"We meet at last, Mr. Potter," Blightfang said, "I was rather worried that you weren't going to come and find out your family finances. Dumbledore said he would inform you of them when you arrived at school."

"Dumbledore? What does he have to do with anything?"

"Oh, dear, I feared this would be the case. After that Halloween thirteen years ago, your parents will was read, Dumbledore was given custody of you as per that section of the will. With Sirius Black imprisoned the Ministry was given no other choice that to give him custody."

'He knew,' Harry thought, 'he knew and did nothing.'

"Dumbledore overstepped his bounds on multiple occasions, he attempted to forgive debts to some allied families who signed for him despite their contracts with yourself not being finished yet. Dumbledore could where the money went to and from but couldn't determine who paid what."

Harry was seething at this Dumbledore had tried to rob him of his money, regardless of how much it was it was his birthright, it was his legacy. And Dumbledore had tried to rid him of it.

"I was told that there were allied houses that had children at Hogwarts that should've told me about these things, is that true?"

"While not necessarily required in the contracts that are signed between the houses it is generally accepted that one house will notify another allied house of an issue, after the end of the war, where several hundred families were destroyed it became social taboo for an allied house not to reach out to the house they signed for during circumstances such as yours."

Harry took the papers Blightfang slid across the desk to him. The papers, at least ten pages thick, was covered in names, dates, and numbers. He looked across the names; Greengrass, Bulstrode, Abbott, McMillian, Higgins, Longbottom. The dates next to the names were old going back almost a hundred years at the least.

"That is the list of allied families for House Potter," Blightfang explained. "I'm sure you recognize a few names. The dates are when they first signed to House Potter, as you can see the Potter's haven't accepted a true allied house in over a century, though they have given out loans of considerable amounts to many people."

"Did Dumbledore ever give out any loans" Harry asked, his stomach clenching in anticipation of the answer.

Blightfang turned to his enormous ledger saying "I cannot tell at this moment, it is entirely possible to transfer money between vaults without being physically present all it takes is a signature. It will take me a couple of days to scour the last thirteen years before I can definitively say so. Now that we have that issue over with, what say you to finding out about the Potter accounts?"

Harry nodded, encouraging Blightfang to talk.

"The Potter's are an old family, almost but not quiet a thousand years. They never truly engaged in any activities that would put them in the spotlight, they preferred to control from behind the scenes, outside the public view. This resulted in them being rather wealthy, gaining control over properties and companies that would bring in several hundred galleons a year, that was when they started buying up properties. Now the Potter family takes in over a million galleons a year in revenue."

Harry's eyes widened to the point he thought they would pop out. A million of anything was a lot, he could easily live for the rest of his life without having to worry about anything. He took another piece of paper from Blightfang and looked it over, it had the names of companies and properties that he owned, how long he had owned them, they worth and how much money they brought in. But he noticed something immediately; half the properties where it said annual gross income, was completely blank.

"It stands out rather quickly doesn't it," Blightfang said guessing what Harry was thinking about. "Since Halloween 1981 many properties and even businesses that owe you money have not paid. We here at Gringotts were unable to enforce payment, not without your signature first. I have the papers drawn up if you so wish to do so."

"Was it Dumbledore" Harry asked dreading the answer, there was only so much he could take.

"I don't know, Mr. Potter. If Dumbledore was the cause of this issue then he did not send anything from the Potter account, I cannot check if he sent it from his own account, and of course cannot determine if he visited them in person. With that said, Mr. Potter, we have one more issue that we must address. Potter Manor."

"Wait, what about the Potter vault? Shouldn't I go see it?"

"We can do that first of course, but there is nothing but gold there, all manuscripts, jewels, and artefacts were moved from the vault to the manor as per your fathers will. You can go down to the vaults after we tour the manor if you'd prefer since you have to come back to London, don't you?"

Blightfang had come around from behind his desk and held out a small jewelry box. Harry took it and opened the lid. While the box had been fairly bland the ring inside was anything but. Set inside the gold band was an octagonal ruby. Taking the ring from the box he placed it on his right middle finger, the only finger it would fit onto. There was no spreading of warmth or tingling sensation when he did so. The ruby just sat their shining in the light of the office.

"The ring is a portkey, Mr. Potter. A method of transportation faster than floo travel, but also rather uncomfortable. Remember inhale before you activate it, it's rather difficult to breath when portkeying. To activate the ring simply speak the location you want to travel to."

"Can't anybody access the manor then if they just have to speak its name?"

"Hardly, Mr. Potter, the ring is tied to the bloodline of House Potter. When your father brought your blood to us almost fourteen years ago you were added not just to the Potter vaults, but to the ring and Potter Manor. If you had not been then we would not have gotten this far in our conversation."

"What would happen if someone who wasn't a Potter put the ring on?"

Blightfang paused for a moment before saying "come to think of it, I don't know. It's never happened before."

With that Blightfang took hold of Harry's right hand, almost causing him to jerk his hand away as the scaly flesh touch his own. Inhaling deeply as he had been told he then said, "Potter Manor." He immediately felt a jolt in his hand and the next moment he was in a blur of lights with no sound to accompany them. This was brief as the next second saw him on his back looking up at the cloudy sky somewhere that was diffidently not in the middle of London. Getting up onto his feet he looked around taking in the sight of the countryside around him, but his attention was then drawn to the enormous house that sat in the valley. Through the wrought-iron gate he could see the four-story house, as wide as a quidditch pitch.

"Simply press the ring to the gate, Mr. Potter," Blightfang instructed. Harry walked forwards and pressed the ruby to the black gate before a loud boom, like a car backfiring or a firework going off echoed around them. Once all the echoing had stopped, the gates opened slowly without any creaking despite Harry knowing they hadn't been opened in at least fourteen years. As the two walked down the bare stone path to the manor, Blightfang told him about it. Built in 1317 by a still unnamed Potter, there were few pureblood manors that could rival it in size and grandeur with the Malfoy's being the closest. There was a basement level where the kitchen and the potions room had been, his great-grandfather having been a master potioneer had it constructed. Harry couldn't help but smile at the thought of Snape scowling at there being a Potter potions master.

The first floor held an enormous ballroom on the west wing that took up two full floors. There was also the master dining room, the drawing room, the den, and the sunroom. The second and third floors were mainly bedrooms apart from the Heads study on the third, but it was the fourth floor that Harry was really looking forward to. The Potter family library took up the entire floor and if what Sirius said was true, that he would be able to find books that would teach him how to fight Voldemort, then it would be an invaluable resource to have.

They finally made it to the massive French doors under the massive wrap-around porch, looking at the lock he noticed the small indent in the brass lock that was the same shape as the Potter ring. Placing the ring in the slot he felt his hand move on its own as it slowly turned upside down and an audible click could be heard from within. Removing his hand from the lock he took the doorknob and turned it slightly, opening the door to his inheritance.

Potter manor was dark, and the floors were covered in a thick layer of dust. Walking inside kicked up a fine cloud of dust to be waved away from the door. "Can you clear the dust for us, Mr. Potter," Blightfang said, "it will make this much easier."

"I can't use magic outside of Hogwarts, the Ministry…"

"The Ministry will be unable to tell it was you. Potter manor predates the Trace, the method used to find magic cast by minors. Your forefathers incorporated anti-Trace magic into the protective enchantments surrounding the property. So, if you could clear the dust for us it would be much easier."

A quick cleaning charm and the dust had disappeared. "Much better," Blightfang said. "No then, I won't go into the details of the history of the manor, I believe that they can be found in the Heads study. Regardless you should take a look around."

The foyer of the manor was enormous, to one side there was a large fireplace, large enough for a grown man to stand inside. Harry thought it might have been for a floo connection. He carefully walked up the spiral staircase that lead to the basement or to the upper floors. " _Lumos"_ Harry whispered causing the tip of his wand to light up, bathing the staircase in a pool of whitish blue lights. Harry ignored the second and third floors, he didn't care about the bedrooms, the library was where he wanted to go. Stepped up off the final stair he found himself face to face with case upon case of books.

Floor to ceiling, with little room to maneuver between the stacks, Harry was surely impressed by the size of the library. 'If Hermione could see this' Harry thought as he looked over the books. Unlike the ground floor and the staircase there was no dust on the floor or on the books, the library had been even more taken care of then the rest of the house. Looking through he immediately noticed that the books were arranged alphabetically by subject. Alchemy started in the front and slowly worked their way back to something called Xylomancy. He stopped around the middle where he saw a book titled _Journey into Undeath: A compendium of Immortality_. He immediately removed the book from the shelf and looked at others. He found a few others, from _Remedial Potions: A Zero to Hero Way to Get Better_ , _Survival or Competition: Dueling a Superior Opponent_ , and a strange book with no name, only the appearance of a gold and red bird stretched out on the cover, a picture that reminded him of Fawkes. Placing it on top of the others he turned towards the spiral staircase to go meet Blightfang when he noticed something in the corner, another staircase.

Unlike the main staircase, these stairs were loud and creaky. Walking down them he found himself in an office-like room. 'The Heads study' Harry guessed as he walked over to the large desk. He placed the books down on it and looked around. Moving pictures of smiling people, he saw his parents, well James and Lily Potter standing underneath an archway on what must have been their wedding day. Four years earlier Harry would have broken down crying at such a picture, now he felt weird looking at it. He didn't know how to handle it. Next to it was an older couple. The man looked like an older copy of James, must have been Fleamont Potter. The woman next to his was obviously James' mother from the way they were holding each other. They waved at him and he absentmindedly waved back. He quickly turned away from them and looked at the wall fighting back tears as he went. The wall behind the desk was full of books, the gold lettering on the brown leather covers glittered in the wand light.

The rest of the room had books strewn about as though there had been a fight years earlier. Picking up one of the books he saw the words on the front of the book. There was an image of a dragon, flames spewing from its mouth, wafting over the sides of its heads. Underneath the dragons head, in silver letters that shown like moonlight it said _Potter Family Grimoire_. Flipping through it he was confronted with drawings and words he couldn't understand but he could tell this magic was advanced, far more advanced than what they taught at Hogwarts. He closed the book and was about to go back to the desk when he noticed a small piece of paper that must have fallen out of the book. Picking it up he was surprised to see what was written on it.

 _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have the power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies._

It was a prophecy, there was no doubting that, he remembered what Trelawney had said at the end of last year about a lost servant rejoining him, it sounded similar enough that there was no doubt. But it was the annotations to the prophecy that drew his attention, someone had obviously tried to determine who this prophecy was about. The question was answered as right about where it said Dark Lord was a single name. Voldemort. Harry stopped breathing as he went through the rest of the annotations. Where is said "trice defied him" there were three places named. Cokeworth, Cardiff, and Dundee. Harry wasn't sure he wanted to know what had happened there. A date was on top of "born as the seventh month dies." 31 July. Harry lost the urge not to look at the end of the prophecy where a single name had been written. His name.

This prophecy was about him and Voldemort. Harry inhaled before loudly exhaling. There was no way this was real, prophecies weren't real, were they? The last time the manor had been occupied was before the deaths of Fleamont and Euphemia, or at least before the deaths of his parents. Had Voldemort gotten his hands on the prophecy? Was that why they had been targeted? Was that why he had been orphaned, over a few lines of mystic writing? Harry crunched the parchment into a ball and threw it across the room, causing it to land in a dark corner. Wiping the tears that lined his face he walked back to the desk and picked up the other books before leaving the study and walking back to the foyer.

The portkey back to Gringotts was less intense than it had originally been, this time Harry managed to stay on his feet when he touched down. "Before we are finished, Mr. Potter, I need to give you these" Blightfang said. He handed parchment across the desk to Harry who picked them up and said "what's this?"

"Guardianship papers. You've officially claimed your inheritance. You may now be emancipated, it won't get you out from underneath the trace, but Dumbledore will have no control over your finances any longer. Would you like me to arrange a cart down to the Potter vaults?"

Harry shook his head unable to speak as he relished the idea of being free from the Dursley's forever come Friday.

* * *

The trip from London to Little Whining was exceptionally quick on the Knight's Bus. It was still midday when Harry got back to number 4. Petunia was watching one of her soaps and either didn't notice or didn't care when he entered. Walking into the kitchen he saw that Vernon was home early from work and unlike Petunia, Vernon noticed when he entered the room.

"Boy, bring me more tea," Vernon said. Taking the kettle from the stove he poured more hot water into Vernon's cup before placing the guardianship papers in front of him. "What's this rubbish?"

"Guardianship papers. I need you to sign them."

"Guardianship papers? For what?"

Harry picked up a pen from the drawer and said "emancipation." Looking over he noticed that Vernon's face had been frozen in its usual grimace.

"Emancipation? Why so that you can be a burden on the state?"

"Of my world, not yours. Sign the papers and come Friday I will be out of your lives for good."

This drew Petunia in from the den. "Your leaving" she asked timidly.

"Hopefully" Harry replied handing the pen to Vernon who took it and signed his name at the bottom so fast he thought the parchment would comically burst into flames. Once Vernon was done Harry handed the pen to Petunia, who unlike her husband was more hesitant about signing it.

"Dumbledore said you had to stay here until you were an adult."

"Dumbledore has kept a lot of secrets from me. I should have been able to have this signed when I was eleven."

"Eleven," Vernon said, "you mean we dealt with you for three more years because that cuckoo headmaster of your forgot to tell you this?"

"The forgot part is starting to look more like he did it on purpose but pretty much yeah."

That was all Petunia needed to hear for her to take the pen from Harry and sign her name on the parchment under Vernon's. Harry couldn't help the smile on his face as his took the parchment and went upstairs to send it to Blightfang. He urgently placed it in an envelope and sent it off with Hedwig before he noticed a small envelope near Hedwig's perch. He recognized the handwriting as Sirius' and ripped the envelope open.

 _Dear Pup,_

 _After what we talked about a few nights ago I did some looking into the old Black family library and found just the spell I thought would help you with your "issues." I tied the spell to the necklace I've included, I thought it appropriate. It won't stop the changes, but it will cover them up, so that I can find something more permanent. Remember James and Lily risked their lives for you, they are your parents, they loved you._

 _Until next time,_

 _Mischief Managed._

Harry reached into the envelope and removed a tarnished gold chain with a silver stag charm on the end. He couldn't help but smile as he put it on and felt a small wave of magic wash over him. Moving across the hall to the bathroom he looked in the mirror and smiled when he saw his eyes had changed, they were both back to their emerald green and the lightening of his hair had vanished, it had returned to the black mess it usually was. Harry smiled as he turned back to his room, intent on finding a way to defeat Voldemort, permanently.


	2. Chapter 2

I do not own Harry Potter

* * *

Chapter Two

"Up and at'em," Mr. Weasley's voice echoed through the halls of the Burrow rousing its occupants from the blessed sleep. "Quickly, quickly now. Can't be late."

Harry woke from his pleasant dream with a groan, only to be confronted with Ron's loudest snore of the night. Getting up off the cot that was his bed, he stretched and then walked over to Ron's bed before pulling the covers off him.

"Hey, why the bloody hell'd you do that" Ron slurred, still mostly asleep.

"The World Cup, remember. We're leaving in a few minutes" Harry said as he grabbed his toiletries from his trunk and walked out the bedroom, hoping to beat someone to the bathroom. He made it just in time for Percy to exit the closest one, still half-asleep and all he did was grunt when Harry said good morning.

Turning on the light in the bathroom Harry looked at himself in the mirror before closing the door and making sure it was locked. Hesitantly he reached up to his neck and removed the silver stag chain. The moment the chain was over his head, his features blurred for a brief moment before they changed completely. It had been his morning ritual, remove the chain that kept the transfiguration in place to see how far the changes had come. It had only been three days since he received it from Sirius, yet the face looking back at him in the mirror, his true face, bore no resemblance to James Potter, at all. His eyes were completely blue, shining like sapphires. His hair, once black and untamable was now whiter than Malfoy's and easily treatable.

Gone were the soft cheekbones and pale skin; they had been replaced with more angular features. Cheekbones sharp enough to cut something on, skin turning a light peach tone which looked like it got more sunlight than was normally possible in England. Perhaps the only change he actually liked, was that he no longer needed glasses to see. He had simply woken up one morning and was seeing perfectly. He had smiled at the thought, as he had always hated his glasses, their tendency to steam up or how them falling off could put him out of a game until he found them. Apart from the obvious physical changes and the life of lies he'd been living with, the most pressing was the fact that the bloody lightning bolt scar was still on his forehead, though it was not as visible against his more flushed skin.

His reverie was interrupted by a banging at the door. "Oi, Potter, come on. Some of us have things to do" Ron said pounding on the door. Quickly putting the necklace back on, his features blurred before returning to the almost perfect clone of James Potter he was trying to be. He flushed the toilet, just to make it sound he had been doing something, and opened the door, greeted by a still half asleep Ron who just walked past him. Returning to the bedroom he got his pack ready for the overnight trip to the World Cup. He quickly added in the _Potter Family Grimoire_ to the bottomless enchanted bag and made sure the Potter ring was safely tucked inside the envelope it had come in before stashing it underneath his Quidditch clothes. He doubted he would need it for the trip to the World Cup. Closing his trunk, he pointed his wand at the lock and with a muttered incantation and a stream of silver mist, the trunk was locked; unable to be opened by anyone until he returned.

He joined Mr. Weasley and Hermione in the kitchen, just in front of Ginny and several minutes later, Ron. With everybody that wasn't apparating to the grounds present, Mr. Weasley led them out of the house and into the nearby orchard. After numerous encounters with fallen branches, barely highlighted by the rising sun through the trees, they stumbled upon two other people standing at the base of a hill.

"Amos, is that you" Mr. Weasley yelled, getting the attention of the two people.

"Certainly is, Arthur. Running behind schedule are we" Amos yelled back.

"Amos Diggory, everyone. Works in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, he does," Arthur replied before yelled back, "not at all, it's still there isn't it?"

"Only for a couple more minutes, best hurry."

Their more relaxed pace turned into a rough jog as they made their way up the hill. As they reached closer to the base of the hill, Harry could see who the men were. One of them, the older one was obviously Amos, Mr. Weasley's friend. The other though was Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff seeker that Harry had lost to the previous year. Mr. Diggory shook Mr. Weasley's hand as they made their way up the hill.

"My, my, Harry Potter," Mr. Diggory said as he shook Harry's hand enthusiastically. "Amos Diggory, how do you do? Cedric's told me about your flying skills, told me you were impressive. Still, though nowhere near my Cedric, not after that game."

"Dad," Cedric said, "I told you what happened. It was hardly his fault."

"Still, Cedric, nothing to be humble about. Not every day a Potter is beaten at something."

Harry felt anger swell up inside him. 'I'd like to see him fend off a swarm of dementors. Maybe that'd show him' Harry thought. Looking down he saw that his hands were shaking from the anger that he was feeling. He tried to get his mind off of saying anything, or doing anything, hostile to Diggory.

Harry's mind flashbacked to the papers he had received from Blightfang with his allied houses on it. Diggory wasn't on it, but he could still sense the hard tone of Mr. Diggory's voice. This wasn't bragging, this was directed straight at him. He briefly wondered which family the Diggory's had signed to, he had a feeling the answer was Dumbledore, they seemed too friendly with the Weasley's to have signed for Malfoy and the only other option was the Blacks. He was brought out of musings by a yell from Ron to hurry up. Looking down at his hand he saw it was no longer shaking with anger. He quickly ran up the hill to catch up with the others. He didn't know what he was expecting, certainly not the old, moldy looking boot that was there.

'That's the portkey' Harry thought as he adjusted his bag, so he could take hold of the boot better, just moments after Cedric had grabbed hold of the boot he felt a pull somewhere in his back, not unlike when he used his ring, and the next moment his vision was full of vibrant colors as he was being whisked to who-knows-where. The next moment he was kneeling on the grass, still holding the boot with everybody else. Looking around he saw that their surroundings has changed. Gone was the hill towering over the wood instead they were on a flat meadow with nothing but green grass on one side, the other though was filled with tents of varying size and colors, stretching as far as the eyes could see.

It was here that the Diggory's parted ways, something that Harry was grateful for. Though he was calmer now than when he first met the elder Diggory, he really didn't want to chance it. They made their way through the bustle of the World Cup until they arrived at a small tent with a sign saying **Weasley** on it. Harry stepped into the tent, expecting it to be cramped, instead it was so big it felt like it was its own house. Unlike with the Burrow where people had to share rooms, there was none of that here. Harry took the room next to Ron's and across from the twins, with Hermione and Ginny taking the rooms further down the hall.

* * *

"Welcome, ladies and gentleman, to the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup, I am your commentator Ludo Bagman," the commentator's voice rang through the golden stadium. "We have two incredible teams for you tonight. First the runners up, they haven't lost a single match, this season and are the local favorite to win. Please welcome the Ireland National Team."

In a sparkle of green and gold the players flew around the pitch several times before the sparkles joined together to form a giant leprechaun who danced around the stadium before exploding into a shower of gold that fell onto the crowd.

"Next the reigning champions please welcome the Bulgarian National Team."

Before anybody on broomsticks flew out though Harry immediately noticed something. Seven figures walked out onto the pitch, each covered in burgundy cloaks obscuring their faces. Something inside him immediately felt a pull to them. He didn't know how to describe it, the closest he could say was it felt like kinship. Moments later the cloaks were thrown off to reveal seven of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. It also caused an enormous uproar throughout the stadium. While there had been cheering before now there were people needing to be restrained as they attempted to get the attention of the women, some even tried to jump over to railings to get to them. Looking around he noticed that only a few men, and almost all the women, were unaffected. Ron was being restrained by Bill with both Mr. Weasley and Charlie holding one of the twins down.

"What's going on" he yelled over the roar of the wolf whistles and attention-grabbing noises.

"Veela," Mr. Weasley yelled over the crowd as he pulled Fred back into his seat, "a little bit of notice would have been appreciated. Their all entranced."

As Bagman tried to restore order to the stadium Harry watched as the veela put their cloaks back on and walked off the pitch. The moment they disappeared from view the entranced men seemed to regain their composure, Ron sat back in his chair with a half-dazed look on his face, smiling idiotically. Harry was about to say something to Ron when burgundy streaks flew into the stadium. While the Irish team had gotten cheers most of the stadium was now firmly chanting "KRUM. KRUM." The scoreboard disappeared for a moment, being replaced with a moving picture of a boy, only a little bit older than Harry. His nose was hideously curved, and his eyebrows were so thick Harry thought they looked like caterpillars. Beside him Ron was spouting off trivia about him in between loudly cheering. Moments later, the game began.

* * *

Later that night after an astonishing game where Ireland had won, though Krum had shocked everyone while catching the snitch, Harry had settled down on one of the couches in the Weasley tent going over one of the pages in the Potter grimoire regarding about transfiguration, something he had been hiding from his friends for the past couple of days. Since returning from Potter manor, Harry had meticulously delved into his studies with a vigor that surprised even Hermione. Ron had been upset saying that he was losing another friend to books though Harry had ignored him. Hermione had asked to look at the grimoire and had been upset when the pages had appeared blank. Harry had said it had been a charm to prevent non-Potters from seeing the powerful magic inside, though Harry knew better. He had cast the spell on all his books to prevent people from seeing what he was reading.

The books had been a godsend and had already taught him more in the last week than the professors had in three years. He had used the potions book to understand more about the subject than what Snape taught. He had even rewritten his potions homework, doubling its length as he explained the complications in combining asphodel with dragon's blood. The grimoire however had been the master stroke, with spells in every language from every corner of the planet Harry knew it would be a great tool in the fight against Voldemort.

"The Irish are celebrating pretty hard" Fred said smiling as he downed the last of his butterbeer.

"It's not the Irish," Mr. Weasley said terror evident in his voice. "Get your things we're leaving. Go for the wood where we arrived, wait there for me. Fred, George you're in charge in of Ginny."

The moment they stepped outside the tent they were confronted with a scene more like a battlefield than a campground. The horizon beyond the tents was red with fire and the stench of smoke filled the air. Almost immediately they were swept away from the tent in the river of desperate witches and wizards that were fleeing the cause of the disaster. Looking around Harry was unable to see anybody he recognized through the darkness. He reached into his bag fumbling past his clothes for his wand. Just as he managed to get a grip on it, a large blast of orange and red magic tore through the swarm of people just a few feet in front of him, knocking people over onto the rough path or sending them flying backwards into the air.

As his vision adjusted he saw flashes of green light and heard maniacal cackling. Reaching his chest, he realized that his pack had come loose from the blast. Looking around he saw it laying beside a blonde girl that had been knocked down as well. He saw that the girl was starting to come around from whatever injuries she had sustained. But looking past her, he saw that a dark figure, one wrapped from head to toe in black robes with a silver mask obscuring their face, had turned towards them.

"Well, well, well," the dark figure said, "look who we have here. The boy-who-lived, this is going to be fun. _Crucio._ "

The next thing Harry knew it felt like his body was on fire, like thousands of white hot knives were slowly scrapping away at his nerves. He clenched his teeth, not willing to give this person the benefit of hearing him scream. Through his watery eyes he could see, between himself and the man, just a few feet from his bag, was his wand. The man was slowly closing on him which would mean he would soon be blocked from getting to it. He looked over at the girl who had finally gotten herself up from the ground. She was crouching behind one of the tents as if she was waiting for the man. Harry watched as she brought her hands together and held them close. Through tears Harry could see smoke rise from them and a moment later a bright whitish blue ball of fire erupted between them.

Turning back to the man Harry was surprised when the pain started to fade, despite the man advancing on him, with his wand still trained on him. The pain had faded somewhat though his hands still felt like they were on fire. Looking down he could see that his hands, much like the girls were also smoking. He looked up just in time for the blonde to jump out from behind the tent and hurl the fireball at the man. The moment it hit the man was consumed by the whitish blue flame. Harry pushed himself off the ground, the pain from the cruciatus having disappeared when the man was distracted. He looked at the girl whose eyes were wide open as she stared at him, specifically his hands. Looking down they were still smoking. Harry was about to say something when a loud pop came from the area surrounding him. Looking over he saw that another figure, dressed in identical robes though obviously a woman had appeared as well. She was kneeling over the now unmoving body of the first figure. Then she turned to them.

"You killed him," she roared, "now I'll kill you. Do what the Dark Lord couldn't."

Harry looked over at his wand laying on the ground a few feet from him. If he could reach it before the woman let off a spell he could put her down. His planning was interrupted by the woman muttering a curse he was unfamiliar which let forth a silver, arrow-like, contrail that speed towards them. The moment the spell left her wand, Harry found his hands burning again. Looking down in confusion he saw his hands were no longer bare, but rather wreathed in black flames. The blonde shouted something from behind him and his attention was brought back to the silver spell, it was too close for him to get to his wand. He did the only thing he could think of, he put his hands in front of him. The next thing he knew the air was alive with black flames roaring from his hands, they impacted the woman and sent her through the air where she landed with a sickening thud. Even after she had hit the ground the flames kept spewing forth causing the air to get hot and ripple maliciously. Felling someone looking at him he turned towards the blonde girl whose blue eyes were wide in shock. Slowly she stepped forwards, placing her hand over his.

"Don't you'll get burned" Harry tried to warn her, but as her hand took hold of his, she didn't cry out in pain as he was expecting. Instead she spoke in a calm soothing accent, one diffidently not British.

"You need to keep calm," she said, "you control the fire, it doesn't control you."

Harry closed his eyes and concentrated. He did his best to take the anger and fear that was coming forwards and hold it back. He didn't know how long he did this but eventually his hand stopped burning and all he could feel was the warmth of the blonde's hand. Opening his eyes, he saw that the flames had vanished, leaving no evidence they had existed apart from the sizzling of the air and the burning corpses on the ground. Harry looked at the girl, now that there wasn't a psychopathic piece oh shit trying to kill them, he could take in her appearance. She was certainly beautiful, with long pale white hair and startling blue eyes. In fact, it was these eyes that drew him in most. He flashbacked to the previous morning when he had looked at his true self in the mirror of the Burrow. They were exactly the same, from the almond shape to the shade of blue. Her skin was almost the same as his, though a little bit darker and she was just a bit taller too.

"Who are you" she asked, though it had been muttered Harry doubted it should have heard it.

"Harry Potter" he said, holding out his hand welcomingly. She just looked at it for a moment before taking his hand and saying.

"Fleur Delacour."

Before anything else could be said an enormous green light erupted in the black, smoky sky. Looking up they watched as the light formed a menacing looking skull and a giant snake, which reminded Harry of the basilisk coming from Slytherin's statue came out of the mouth before slithering around in the air.

"We need to get out of here" Harry said. He picked up his wand and his pack. Making sure nothing else had fallen out during the blast he put it on and started walking away.

"Hey, you're just going to leave a poor defenseless girl here by herself" Fleur yelled after him.

Turning around he pointed to the charring skeletons and said "you did that. Defenseless isn't a word I'd used to describe you." That said he stepped over a fallen tent as he made his way towards the wood where he had portkeyed in, hoping that the Weasley's hadn't left him here. After several feet he turned around to see if Fleur was still there only to see that she had walked off.

"Harry" someone yelled. Turning towards the voice he saw that it had been Ron and Hermione calling his name.

"Harry James Potter," Hermione started, "don't you ever do that to us again." His brunette friend crashed into him hugging him with such force he thought his ribs would crack.

"Yeah, mate we were worried. Dad's had a few auror pals keep an eye out for you" Ron said as he patted Harry on the shoulder.

"Did anyone else get hurt" Harry asked as they made their way towards where Mr. Weasley was standing.

"Ginny's got a sprained ankle, nothing too serious" Ron replied as Mr. Weasley practically ran towards them.

"Merlin's beard, Harry," Mr. Weasley began, "where were you? We were terrified something had happened to you."

"Sorry," Harry said, "the crowd got attacked and I got separated. Found a deserted tent and stayed in there until the commotion died down."

Harry was amazed he didn't feel ashamed lying to Mr. Weasley. He was even more surprised he didn't even care he had just taken a life and charred the persons skeleton probably beyond all possibility of identification. A week ago, he'd have been horrified, probably breaking down into a cry in the corner and engaging in an astonishing level of self-hate and pity. Now though, there was nothing but calmness and a little exhilaration. Something inside of him didn't care that he had killed one person and watched another burn to death. And he kind of liked it.

* * *

The next day, Harry sat on the cot in Ron's bedroom at the Burrow looking down with anger and sadness at the parchment he was holding.

 _Mr. Potter,_

 _I have recently conducted an audit of the Potter accounts. Since taking control of your estate in the fall of 1981, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore has removed more than 300,000 Galleons from your primary account to his own. Due to the fact that these transfers were conducted and approved before any attempt to remove him from that position and emancipate yourself, I'm afraid there's little to be done about getting the money back, only know that it is a fraction of the true wealth of the Potter family._

 _Many families that owed your family money, either in rent or debt, have not paid a knut since the end of November 1981. Though I suspect Dumbledore having told them not to bother the fact is that because they did not pay, interest has been accruing on their debts for the last thirteen years. I have included a list of the people that owe money to House Potter and have yet to pay, along with how much money they owe and how long they have gone without paying._

 _I have also included a list of families that have received money from the Potter vaults from November 1981 up until this past August. In total there have been donations equaling at the most 1,836,250 galleons, 492,021 sickles, and 40,263 knuts. I am afraid like the money transferred to the Dumbledore account there is little that can be done to regain this money._

 _May Your Gold Flourish,_

 _Blightfang- Potter Account Manager_

Having looked over the papers included in the list of families that had taken donations from the Potter family vaults. He hadn't recognized a lot of them. McFadden, Smith, Croll. But it had been the name at the bottom of the first page that had gotten his attention the most. Weasley.

He had been sure his heart had stopped beating when he had read that name. According to the parchment since August of 1981 the Weasley family had been getting annual donations of at 1600 galleons. He had known Mr. and Mrs. Weasley for two years now, how had they not spoken to him about this? Did they not know it was his vault the money had been coming from? He was awoken from his thoughts by the sound of the fireplace erupting, the only person that flooed anywhere was Mr. Weasley. Hesitantly picking himself up off the cot he clutched the parchment in his hand he slowly walked down the stairs to the kitchen where he found Mr. Weasley raving about disappearing doorknobs in Milton Keynes.

"Ah, Harry," Mr. Weasley said, "how was your day?"

"Could have been better," Harry started, "I…uh, I need to talk to you about something. Both you and Mrs. Weasley."

"Certainly, Harry what is it" Mrs. Weasley said as she poured her husband a cup of tea.

"The sixteen hundred galleons a year you've been getting."

Mrs. Weasley froze in shock, the hot water cascading over the sides of the cup onto Mr. Weasley's hand being the only thing that got them out of it.

"How did you get our account statements" Mr. Weasley asked his voice trembling. It wasn't in anger, but it sounded like fear. It immediately stuck out to Harry as he replied "I didn't. I got my own."

The look that passed between Mr. and Mrs. Weasley made Harry suspect they knew it was from him. But he needed to be sure.

"Did you know? That it was from my family vault, I mean?"

Mr. Weasley sighed before nodding. "Bill started Hogwarts in 1981, that put a dent in our funds. You-Know-Who wasn't defeated until the end of October, Hogwarts started in September. Many of the departments had their funding cut to supplement the auror corps. We barely had enough for his supplies, not with five other mouths to feed and another on the way. November 5th, I was at work when I was approached by Headmaster Dumbledore. He handed me a Gringott's draft for 1600 galleons. Told me it was for hard work and to use it for my family. So, I did."

"When did you find out it had been from my family?"

"The year after," Mrs. Weasley said, "one night, when Arthur had just gotten home from work, Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix appeared with an envelope. Inside was another draft, 1600 galleons yet again. The next day I took it to Gringott's and tried to refuse it, the war had ended, we had been living well enough with what we had saved up, we didn't need it. I made a comment about the vault number and it being Dumbledore's, the goblin corrected me. He told me the vault number on the draft was from the Potter family vault. I tried to refuse it, did my best to have him reverse the transfer, but it had already been done, Dumbledore had thought ahead. We were told that if we didn't want the money, to donate it. We decided to keep it, save it up for an emergency. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Did you ever plan on telling me?"

There was silence which echoed through the room as a loud no.

"Dumbledore came to my office a couple of years ago, a day before you came to stay with us if I remember correctly. He told me that you were too young to know about any of this, he said he'd tell you when you were ready. I didn't question him, I had no reason to."

Harry stood in that spot going over it in his head. It was back to Dumbledore, interfering in things he had no right to get involved in. He was interrupted when the kitchen door opened and Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the twins walked inside, covered in dirt and laughing at an unheard joke. They stopped when they noticed the tension in the room between the elder Weasley's and Harry. Unable to even look at them Harry went up the stairs to his room and started packing his things into his trunk.

"Harry, what was that about" Ron said as he walked into his bedroom.

"Your parent kept a secret from me, something they should have told me years ago. They've been receiving years donations of 1600 galleons since 1981. And they were never planning on telling me" Harry said.

"Sixteen hundred, thirteen," Hermione said doing the calculations in her head, "that's over twenty thousand galleons."

"Your angry over money," Ron said. "The Potter's are rich, I thought you knew that."

Harry turned to his best friend and said "so you knew that? You knew I had more to my name than my father's invisibility cloak and you just, what forgot to tell me?"

"Forgot to tell you? I saw the gold in your vault, I know you know how rich you are."

"Yeah, I found out a week ago, Ron. I also found out I could have been free from the Dursley's when I was eleven. Instead I spent an extra four summers there when I never could have gone back."

"I always figured you knew. I just thought you were better than Malfoy, you know, not bragging about it. But a couple of galleons missing, and you turn into a spoiled brat."

"First off, Ron, twenty thousand galleons is more than a couple. Second it has nothing to do with the amount of money. If your parents had asked that I pay them for room and board for staying here, I gladly would have, they took me in when I had nowhere else to go. That's not the point. Your parents saw the rags I wore, they knew the money came from my vault, and yet they did not tell me. That is what I am upset about."

Harry turned back to his trunk and removed the envelope with the Potter ring on, the manor was the only place he could go.

"What are doing, Harry," Hermione asked.

"Packing. I need to leave, I can't stay here."

"Where are you gonna go?"

Harry turned to Hedwig who was sitting in her cage watched the three of them. He opened the cage and said, "fly to Potter Manor, girl. I'll see you when you get there."

Turning back his friends he opened his mouth to say something to them, only to realize the words were frozen on his tongue. Placing a hand on both Hedwig's cage and his trunk he said, "Potter Manor."

In a swirl of vibrant lighting he stood in the dark and dusty foyer of the manor, rather than on the outskirts as he had the first time. The moment he materialized Hedwig's cage and his trunk fell to the floor and he let out a scream that echoed throughout the barren manor. He screamed continuously for several minutes, stopping only to catch his breath before his throat started to get sore. He collapsed to the ground on his hands and knees, sobbing. He had hoped he could trust the Weasley's they had been there for him when they saved him from hell on earth and had taken him in out of the goodness of their hearts, or so he had thought. Wiping the tears from his eyes he reached into his shirt and removed the silver pendant from around his neck. Looking at it, he threw it as hard as he could, sending it sliding across the floor until it disappeared down the spiral staircase. Holding his right hand out in front of him he concentrated on feeling the warmth he had at the World Cup. He focused on his anger and fear, his desire for revenge, and hope that he could trust someone, anyone in his life. Finally heat spread across his hand and when he opened his eyes the black fire was roaring over it, bathing his surroundings in a deep purplish light. As he looked into the black fire he contemplated the last couple of days; the lies, the truths. There were two things he knew to be fact, Harry Potter had been betrayed by those sworn to stand by him and those he had saved. Second whoever he really was, whatever he really was, that was the real him. He may not have been born Harry Potter, but there was one thing for certain. He would make them pay.


	3. Chapter 3

I do not own Harry Potter

* * *

Chapter Three

"Okay this is weird" Sirius said as he sat down in the seat opposite Harry.

"How do you think I felt" Harry said as he reclined in the old leather chair in the Potter Heads study. It had been two days since he had arrived at Potter manor from the Burrow, two days since he had removed the stag pendant keeping the spell that made him look like James Potter in place. He had owled Sirius and Remus to come to Potter Manor to help him, though they had to wait a day due to Mooney's furry little problem. Harry had spent that time going over the Potter records, finding out who else he knew had stolen money from him or not told him about his heritage. He hadn't recognized many of the names, though there were a fair few he knew of. Monthly donations from his account into vault 392, the vault of Cornelius Fudge, the current Minister for Magic, and vault 830, the Bagnold vault. Harry was curious as to who this Bagnold was and why he/she kept getting 8000 Galleons a month from the Potter vault. He had sent a letter to Blightfang freezing the accounts for the foreseeable future.

"You need to be very careful how you proceed, Harry" Lupin said as he relaxed in his chair, "Dumbledore has been in this game for decades. It would be unwise to confront him directly."

"So, what do you suggest I do?"

"The first thing you need to work out is, are you going back to Hogwarts," Sirius said, "Remus and I, we know some stuff, but we aren't on par with the professors. There are things you will only be able to learn from them."

"If I return to Hogwarts, I'm not sure I can control myself. How am I supposed to look the people that should have helped me in the eyes? Where were they when I spent a decade under the stairs being treated no better than a house elf while they were living it up, enjoying their freedom from the House they were sworn to serve."

"What do you intend to do with them" Sirius asked.

"I haven't really decided yet. I can't regain the money I lost because of Dumbledore's interference and all it would take is one letter to Blightfang to become the most hated person in Britain. I'm not sure I'm ready for that."

"There aren't many other ways we can do this," Sirius said. "The longer we wait the more these people will think they've gotten away with it. There's also the fact that not all the people you want to get the money from will be able to pay. They won't just be owing debts to you, but to who knows who else. You need to pick and choose who you target, pick the wrong one and you may be in more trouble than you anticipated."

"What about the Death Eaters, what if I called in the debts on those families that served Voldemort? That way when he returns I've wiped out any financial backing he'd gain from those families."

"Are you so sure that he's going to return" Remus asked.

Harry recounted the events of the end of his first year up until the events in the chamber of secrets. "Voldemort is still out there," Harry said, "disembodied, weak, barely able to hold onto a physical form for long before it fades. But he won't be so weak forever. We need to strike before he can regain his bearings."

"How many Death Eaters owe debts to your family" Remus asked.

Harry was about to open his mouth, but the words were stuck in his throat. He didn't know. He reached for the parchments with the list of names on it and handed over to the older men.

"Thorfin Rowle, Corban Yaxley. Them I recognize, right piece of work they are," Sirius said, "no one else I recognize on here, not that we encountered anyways. A few dark leaning politicians but not any who outright supported You-Know-Who."

Leaning back in the chair, Harry couldn't help but sigh loudly. Calling in the debts for Rowle and Yaxley would be a start thought without knowing who else supported Voldemort it wouldn't be effective.

"There is something else that may help us," Sirius said, "my family, the Black's, were notoriously dark, some of them evil, rotten to the core. They had many allied families that were just as evil. I'd have to check the ledgers but it's entirely possible that there are Death Eaters that owe my family money, if I called them in it would be disastrous for them."

"What do think we'll be able to get?"

"The law says we take anything bar a few items. We can't take their wands, their lives, or their family grimoires."

"Grimoires? Other families have them?"

"Yeah, though only the really old families have true grimoires. Any magical family recognized as such by the Wizengamot, the magical high court, can have a grimoire, though they're only allowed one. The younger families though say they have grimoires, but some of them have just made a book from Flourish and Blot's into the grimoire."

"Any idea what's in them?"

"Grimoire's, real grimoires, have ancient magic, stuff the ministry might consider dark at this point, but isn't really. Magic so old the last time it was used was probably when Merlin walked around."

"Might consider dark?"

"True dark magic comes from somewhere else than the rest of magic. It requires malicious intent, human sacrifice, profane acts; stuff like that. But often times, if a dark wizard uses a particularly powerful and rare type of magic in an open setting, especially with human casualties, the ministry may declare that magic to be dark."

"On a more important note," Remus said, "any idea how You-Know-Who's still alive?"

"Not yet, no," Harry said, "I found a book upstairs about immortality. Didn't know there were so many ways to accomplish it. Anyways, every method listed in the book requires a more proactive method. Continuous rituals, potions, runic magic, stuff like that. There is one method that the book mentioned but didn't go into detail about. Horcruxes."

"Never heard of 'em" Sirius said.

"I'm guessing their more dangerous than the other methods because the book pretty much glosses right over them, and some of the stuff in there is pretty grewsome."

"I'll take a look in the Black library, like I said they were dark and evil, maybe there's something in there about them."

"Are you sure you want to go back there," Remus said, "your mother wasn't too thrilled about it."

"Your mother" Harry asked.

"My dear mother, may her soul be damned in hell, died a few years ago," Sirius said, "stunk the place up bad, she did. That damned house elf just left her there. She is forever remembered by her portrait hanging on the wall at the base of the stairs. The slightest noise, the creak of a door, the whistle of the wind, even the trucks and that outside, and she goes off on a rampage that would make dragons look domesticated."

"Why don't you just take the portrait down?"

"Tried that. Permanent sticking charm. Can't remove it without taking the wall down. Do that and the entire place would collapse though, if I wasn't staying there I wouldn't care."

"Why don't you move in here?" When he said that both Marauders just looked at him.

"Really, Harry, much of the Black family library is dedicated to nothing but dark magic. It could be dangerous" Remus said.

"First off, look at this place, it's huge, it's too much for me," Harry said. "I don't need all this space. Bring the library here, we'll stash it in the ballroom, it isn't like we're going to be using it. Second, Voldemort is coming after me I know it. I will need all the help I can get and truthfully I don't really care if I need to use dark magic to survive, all I care about is surviving."

Sirius and Remus exchanged a look before Sirius said, "very well, Kreacher!"

With a faint pop a small creature with pale wrinkled skin, enormous ears, and an enormous crooked nose worse than Snape's.

"Master called for Kreacher" the house elf said in a nasally, wheezing voice.

"Kreacher, bring everything from the Black library to the ballroom here at Potter Manor. Everything and I mean everything."

With a bow and a "yes, master" Kreacher disappeared and with that done, Sirius turned back to Harry.

"How do you know he's coming after you" Sirius said.

"There was a prophecy, wait here me out" Harry said as he saw the older men roll their eyes and sigh. He handed them the small piece of paper with the prophecy written on it and let them read it over.

"Harry, you need to be very careful with prophecies," Remus said, "they can be terribly subjective. What's to say this is really about you and You-Know-Who? This could be about a dark lord from ages ago, or someone who won't be born for decades."

"This is Lily's handwriting, Mooney," Sirius said, "I'd recognize it anywhere."

"Lily may very well have written it on that paper, Padfoot," Remus said, "but there is no way of knowing, short of a trip to the Department of Mysteries, when it was actually made."

"Be that as it may," Harry said, "Voldemort thinks it refers to him and me, whether it does or doesn't isn't really the debate here. It's how to beat him when he comes after me again."

A loud crash echoed through the halls of the manor from the opposite side, the ballroom, causing the three of them to jump in surprise.

"Best go make sure that stupid elf didn't break anything" Sirius said as he got out of his chair and left the study.

* * *

Harry sat outside on the wrap-around porch overlooking the extensive grounds of Potter manor. While both Sirius and Remus were doing who knows what inside, something involving a birthday surprise, he was looking through one of the Black family books. Many of them had no names, just pages of discolored parchment bound in leather backing. He had gotten through eight different books and had learned rituals and potions that would have made most people faint. But he knew he had to solider on and work through the urge to vomit. The current book was a fascinating, though still sickening book filled with vile dark magic from end to end. Bone breaking curses, entrail expelling curses, curses that would cause someone's limbs to painfully pop off and beat the person to death, curses that would cause lungs to hemorrhage, or their brains to turn to mushy peas. But its most exciting pages were dedicated to a piece of magic called a horcrux. It had been exactly what Harry had been looking for.

According to the book, a horcrux allowed a witch or wizard to tear off a fragment of their soul and bind it within another object. So long as the horcrux and the wizard stayed on the same plane of existence, the wizard was granted immortality. They would be reduced to a wraith-like being and forced to wander aimlessly until they regained a physical form. It reminded in him of the skirmish he had with Voldemort over the Philosophers stone. He remembered how weak Voldemort had been that he had to kill unicorns and drink their blood. He also remembered what Dumbledore had said in the hospital wing.

"Voldemort would eventually find his reliance on the stone to be too much."

Whereas horcruxes were his own soul, his own narcissism made manifest. That had to be the method he had used. Unfortunately, the book said nothing about how to destroy them, only that the casing had to be damaged beyond any magical means of repair.

"Ready when you are, Prongslet" Sirius said from behind Harry. Turning around he saw that Remus was standing beside him holding a small birthday cake.

"Baking was never my strong suit" Remus said as he placed the cake down on the porch's small table. Harry looked over at it and saw that it resembled, though barely, a snitch.

"It's perfect thank you" Harry said and proceeded to hold back a wince as Sirius started singing Happy Birthday off-key.

As Remus cut the cake and handed out the pieces he said "oh, that reminds me. This came for you earlier today."

Remus slid a small package across the table to Harry. Removing the wrapping he saw that there was a small card attached to the box. _'Considering what happened at the world cup, I thought you could use this. It will burn when you are in danger-Fleur Delacour'._ Opening the box, he saw that it was a ring. It was silver, inlaid with an ovular pale blue stone on its rhomboid face. That was it, nothing fancy, no embellishments, just a plain ring.

"Someone has a secret admirer" Sirius said smiling.

"Not so secret," Harry said as he put the ring on his finger, it was perfect fit. "It's from Fleur Delacour. I met her at the world cup."

"Delacour?"

"Yeah why? Know anything about them?"

"French family, new money that liked to pretend to be old money. They tended to be on the darker side of magical politics, though they aren't exactly welcome there anymore."

"Why? What happened?"

"Jean-Claude Delacour, the current head, married a veela, lucky sod. The dark side looks down on interspecies marriage, not that any of 'em would say that to his face. Terrifying wizard he is, France's national dueling champion. Almost went for continental champion back in '77 but backed out."

"Why?"

"No idea. Just failed to show up at the tournament one day. The French were quite cross with him, but like I said, nobody would say that to his face."

"So how did you two meet" Remus asked.

"We were attacked at the World Cup," Harry said. He saw that the two Marauders were bolt upright in their seats when he said this.

"Are you okay? Were you hurt" Sirius said quickly.

Harry quickly recounted his story of the altercation with the Death Eaters. "And then my hand started smoking and it just caught on fire" Harry said.

"It caught on fire" Remus replied his disbelief evident in his tone. Harry extended his hand, palm upwards, and immediately black flames covered his hand. Sirius immediately had his wand pointed at the fire and was muttering incantations in an attempt to extinguish the flames. When none of them, from the torrent of water that smacked him in the face to the implosive gust of wind, worked Sirius just stood there looking at the flames.

"You killed them" Remus said.

"Yes," Harry said, "burned them alive. Not sure what else was left. Didn't have much choice."

"Not much choice. Harry, you burned someone alive and you're okay with it…"

"Okay with it? Like hell I am. I don't feel anything from doing that. That's what scares me the most. A week ago, I'd have been in the corner weeping my eyes out. Now I can talk about it, remember it, without any issue. What is happening to me?"

The two older men looked at him before Remus said "from what Sirius told me. Lily used a potion to inhibit the genes of your parents while bringing out features that James and Lily would have passed on to you, is that right?" Both Harry and Sirius nodded.

"The simplest answer to this, the fire, your sudden apathy to murder. Is that you inherited them from your parents, whoever they are or were. A more pressing issue with this is the gradual changes you've gone through. From the hair and eyes down to the rest of your body and even the flames. We don't know anything about your biological parents, who knows how much else you'll have to go through."

"Regardless of that, Harry," Sirius said, moving around the table to place his hand on his godson's shoulder, "we'll be here to walk you through it. We won't leave you."

As they settled in to eat the birthday cake Harry gave them an overview of horcruxes. Discussing possible ways to destroy them Sirius brought up something called fiendfyre. According to Sirius the fire was so deadly it couldn't be extinguished by ordinary means, it had to burn itself out. But the beauty of the fire was that it could consume anything, possibly even a horcrux. He'd have to look that up.

* * *

"Are you sure you want to do this, Harry" Remus said as they sat on a bench at Kings Cross station.

"As opposed to what," Harry said, "I need to go back. I need to look Dumbledore in the eyes and have a serious conversation with him. This will be his last chance to tell me what I need to know, or I'll be leaving."

Having spent the last week anticipating how the meeting would go he was getting stir crazy thinking about it. Coming face to face with the Weasley's again, seeing the faces of the heirs of families that should have helped him.

"Any sign of the Weasley's yet" Remus asked. Harry looked at his watch and saw that it was only ten o'clock, knowing with Ron that they wouldn't be at the station until almost eleven.

"Ron will probably hold them up," Harry said. "I should get onto the train, the sooner we get this over with the better."

"Good luck" Remus said as he hugged Harry. It lasted longer than he had intended but the message was the same. Harry gave the trolley a once over, making sure everything was there that he needed before running through the magical barrier and appearing before the enormous scarlet locomotive. Looking around he was surprised to find the platform so empty for the first of September, but he immediately remembered that he had not once gotten to the platform earlier than at least half past ten. He quickly climbed aboard and found an empty compartment further down the back of the train, where he could still see the entry point. Reaching up he ran his fingers over the stag pendant that was once more around his neck. It felt like it was strangling him, this lie he was living. He would feel much better once he could be free of this burden.

At half past the platform became so packed that Harry couldn't see the barrier to know if the Weasley's or Hermione had arrived. He watched as students ran into each other's arms after a long summer and just when he was going to turn away he saw a sea of red hair come running through the crowd. Getting ready for the firestorm of comments that would be coming his way shortly he could feel his legs start twitching at the excitement.

Moments later there was a knock at the compartment door. Looking up he was not surprised to see Hermione and Ron standing on the other side. Hermione slowly opened the door and said "can we come in?"

Not trusting his words, Harry nodded and motioned towards the empty seats opposite himself.

"How are you holding up?"

"Apart from the lies I've uncovered? Think I'm doing pretty well" Harry said.

"How was Potter Manor" Ron said. Harry searched his voice for any amount of jealousy but was surprised when he found none.

"Good, thanks. Spent time with Sirius and Remus."

"Are you sure that's wise, Harry," Hermione said, "Sirius is still a wanted man."

"Potter manors grounds are so big no muggle or magical person would be able to see him from the boundary line."

The three of them sat in silence as the train pulled away from the platform. Until Ron broke the silence.

"So, about the money" he said trailing off at the end.

"I don't expect your parents to pay be back," Harry said. "If you could, write to them and tell them I'm sorry for how things went down."

Ron nodded, unable to say anything.

"How much money did you lose" Hermione asked.

"Too much, Hermione. Way too much. My family owns properties around the country, not just small flats, but big manor estates. They were rented out before the end of the war and once it ended and my parents were dead, all rent stopped being paid. Tenants have overstayed the time they signed on for, too."

"So, they're squatters basically."

"Basically, apart from the fact that the magical world doesn't allow squatting. I could easily have them thrown out onto the streets, I could take everything they have."

"Would you really do that?"

"I haven't made up my mind yet. If I did that, I'd be the most hated person in Britain. If I don't do it, then I'm losing money."

"Does money really mean so much to you?"

"Hermione, I spent a decade being worked like a house-elf while they had a warm house, plenty of food, and a family. Even those families that signed on for House Potter did nothing to help me."

At Hermione's surprised look, Harry explained the concept of signed houses to her. He then told her and Ron about how several heirs to House Potter's signed houses were at Hogwarts with them and how they had done nothing to help him or let him know about his heritage beforehand. Ron was astonished at that. The Weasley's might have been poor but they were still a pure-blood family.

"You're seriously letting them get away with that" Ron asked.

"Get away? Hardly, this will be their last and final chance to come to me," Harry said, "otherwise I can, and will take everything from them."

"What does Dumbledore think of this" Hermione asked.

"Dumbledore has no say in this, Hermione. He tried to forgive debts to my signed families when he had no such authority to do so. If I so chose I could have him brought up on charges because of that. And don't even get me started on the so-called donations to people that he made from my vault."

"You said…" Ron started before Harry said.

"And I meant it Ron, I do. But Dumbledore has been giving donations to people since he took control of my account thirteen years ago. Not enough to bankrupt my family, but enough to put a sizable dent in its savings. Of course, Dumbledore is the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Supreme Mugwump of the I.C.W., and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. Three incredibly powerful positions and you mean to tell me he couldn't have used his own money for those donations."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Harry could tell from the look in her eyes that she was defeated.

"So, what do you plan on doing" Ron asked. This time Harry could easily pick out the apprehension in his voice.

"That depends on how tonight goes," Harry said, "I'm expecting the he'll want to have a chat after the feast. I need to see how things progress before I make a final decision."

"That very mature of you, Harry" Hermione said, having finally found her voice.

The rest of the train ride was uneventful, Malfoy had popped up and spouted his usual rhetoric before laughing at his own joke and then leaving. Hermione had gotten out one of her books while Harry and Ron had played chess, Harry lasting longer than he usually did, though still loosing in the end. Harry did his best to ignore the students walking in the corridor on the other side of the glass, though it was hard not to look at some of the people who betrayed his family. With Ron eventually falling asleep after having who-knows-how-many snacks from the trolley, Harry joined Hermione is reading one of the books from the Potter library, based on potion. He was really looking forwards to the look on Snape's face when he got an Outstanding in the subject at the end of the year.

* * *

The dark sky was clouded over, and the smell of rain was in the air as the Express pulled into Hogsmeade station. Waving to Hagrid who was collecting the first years, the trio made their way up the hill to the horseless carriages. Just as they managed to get into the carriage the sky opened up, releasing a torrent of rain.

"Hate to be a first year crossing the lake in this" Ron said. But as they reached the front steps of the school Harry froze as he saw who was standing there. Death Eaters, Dementors, and a bleeding basilisk were nothing compared to Professor McGonagall. As they walked closer to the enormous oak doors she noticed Harry and when Harry was close enough to them she spoke.

"Mr. Potter, the headmaster has asked me to escort you to his office," she said, "there is a matter of grave importance."

"Already, Professor" Harry asked. He had anticipated that there would be a meeting, just not that it would happen before the feast.

"We'll save you a seat, mate" Ron said as him and Hermione walked into the castle of dry off. Harry followed McGonagall up the grand staircase and through the corridors until they reached the stone gargoyle that shielded the headmaster's office.

"Butterscotch disks" McGonagall said, and the corridor was filled with the sound of stone creaking against stone as the gargoyle moved aside. Motioning for Harry to go up the steps that had appeared, Harry did so tentatively. Reaching the top, he knocked on the wooden door and as it slowly swung open…

"Ah, Harry, m'boy," Dumbledore said from behind his desk, "please come in. There's much we need to discuss."


End file.
